Eternal Nightmare
by DayDreamer95
Summary: Upon falling into the depths of the Ark of Yamato, Waka falls into a coma in which he is forced to relive all the terrible memories of his past. Oneshot AmmyXWaka. Rated T for images of graphic violence. Please read and review!


_**Eternal Nightmare**_

_BOOM!_

Another resounding impact, another blow from the Lord of Darkness sent Waka backwards as the last barely-deflected blast of burning light had. But this second laser had been a direct hit, and sent him flying backwards into the air rather than shoving him a few steps backwards. The next few moments of time seemed to slow for him and the white wolf who had boarded the Ark of Yamato with him, Amaterasu. Their eyes met for an eternal instant, his pale blue eyes and her bright golden ones contrasting. The Moon and the Sun. A condemned man from the Moon Tribe and the revered Goddess of the Sun, in love with one another, together in this last moment of forever.

Then time threw the two back into reality. The fall that was imminent for Waka resumed, and he began to plummet into the depths of the Ark. The gentle light above faded into nothing as he fell into darkness. Soon, there was nothing but darkness, and the silent wind slipping past him. It seemed as if he would be falling for the rest of eternity, for this soundless darkness felt endless.

Abruptly, Waka's fall into infinite darkness ended as his head cracked against hard metal. The rest of him crashed into the metal floor moments after with a painful thud. Waka felt the warm stickiness of blood trickle through his scalp, and he briefly fretted about the crimson liquid drying and matting his golden hair. Then the pain took over his thoughts. The pain, the excruciating pain gripped his skull and stole any thought that tried to enter his mind. It paralyzed him, pinned him to the floor. _The pain . . . The pain . . ._ The pain was in complete control of him. _The pain . . . The pain . . . _

_ The pain . . ._

But suddenly . . . There was no pain. It dissipated entirely as a different kind of darkness descended upon Waka. This darkness was softer, blacker, and erased all his pain. It closed slowly in on him like a sluggish dark mist, gradually eating away his consciousness. His eyelids began to slowly fall over his silver-blue Moon eyes like a curtain as the soft numbing darkness seeped into him. Then the darkness took the last of his consciousness, and his eyes closed completely as he fell even deeper, further than he thought possible. Into the depths of his own mind he fell, deeper and deeper . . .

Into the dark place in his mind that he'd forbidden himself to ever enter again.

Where _those_ memories resided, the memories he wished to never remember.

Waka was immediately submersed into the first memory that was better left forgotten. Suddenly, he was 15 again, so naively young compared to his current age of over 200 years. His actions were not his own, controlled by the past. Yet at the same time, he was an observer, his thoughts untouched by the overwhelmingly immersing memory. He was sleeping in bed, innocently dreaming peaceful dreams, when the smell of smoke wakened him. He remembered how he'd wondered what was going on, all the while dreading what he knew would happen next.

Incapable of keeping his 15-year-old self from walking towards the thing that turned this memory horrifying, he walked forward, out of the bedroom. In the main room, he met the sight that he would never truly forget—the sight of his parents' corpses, greedily safeguarded by hungry demons. He stood in place, frozen by fear, unable to tear his gaze away from his dead parents. They were barely even recognizable, pale skin stained crimson, flesh torn apart by glistening claws dyed scarlet with fresh blood. Waka then looked at the demons that fed from the ravaged bodies of his parents, at the same time telling himself not to. His eyes met the hungry gazes of the demons against his will. The memory of terror clenched around his heart like a cold fist as he stared into beady eyes that gleamed with vicious want.

He wanted to run away.

He didn't want to run away.

The memory of his fear told him to flee.

He wanted to be stronger than that.

Waka yelled at his past self, his voice manifesting as a mental scream unheard by the younger Waka. _Don't run! You can defeat these demons! Do not run away! Ne cours pas!_ He knew his pleas were falling on deaf ears. But still he shouted in a desperately futile hope that he could somehow force his younger self to stay and fight.

_ DON'T RUN AWAY!_

But he ran away.

He had no choice. No matter how hard he tried, he could not change the past. He just didn't have that kind of power, no matter how badly he wished to. He wanted more than anything to undo the past, to erase his mistakes and try again.

His younger self ran outside, where the true chaos was taking place. The heat of flame increased tenfold as a wild inferno rampaged through the city, slowly consuming everything in its path. Panic dominated the city as hundreds of demons wreaked havoc, killing countless citizens and destroying all that hadn't been eaten away by fire. Everything else seemed to blur into color. Streaks of gold and glints of blue flashed by, all other colors either burning orange with flame or tinted red with blood.

And watching over the turmoil were eight pairs of smoldering crimson eyes, piercing straight through the smoke and fire and chaos with bright, devilish light.

Waka remembered the thought that had crossed his mind then, the one that turned everything to disaster: _The Ark of Yamato . . . It can save us._ That was the very thought that led Waka to make the horrible, horrible mistake he could never undo. He'd foolishly believed that the Ark of Yamato was an innocent transportation ship, created as a means of escape or travel. He hadn't known about the evil cargo it held within its depths, all those wicked demons trapped inside.

Again, Waka screamed at his younger, foolish self, louder and louder, growing more and more desperate to change the past, all to no avail. _Stop, don't do it!_ The younger Waka was oblivious, deaf to the older one's cries. _You're making a horrible mistake!_ Young 15-year-old Waka continued on, walking to the cursed Ark of Yamato. It tormented the Waka of the present, knowing that there was nothing he could to prevent himself from making the mistake he'd already made. He kept yelling at the younger Waka, knowing that he may as well have been mute, his shouts becoming weaker and weaker as he eventually resigned himself to reliving the memories—the even more horrifying memories—yet to come.

o~*~o

Several years passed within the blink of an eye; his mind spared him no mercy with the more pleasant memories in that space of time. Waka was thrown straight into another memory he had tried to banish from his mind.

He was now with his beloved Amaterasu once more—but in this time, over 200 years ago, the goddess was known as Shiranui, the Great Goddess of the Celestial Plain. And here, on the Celestial Plain, the home of the Gods, the goddess could show her true form: a beautiful woman rather than the wolf all mortals saw when she was down on the mortal plain. Waka's heart filled with warmth when he remembered his passionately burning love, and her sweetly gentle affection.

But this welcome memory was doomed to turn for the worst.

Suddenly, an ominous rumbling shook the ground, causing Shiranui to let out a little startled yelp. When Waka brought his gaze to the sky—both his present and past selves dreading what awaited him—he saw precisely what he had never hoped to see again. Sixteen scarlet, bloodthirsty eyes singed the sky, which had turned unexpectedly from day to night in an instant. The full moon outlined the black silhouette of eight heads atop long, monstrous, serpentine, slowly undulating necks. Waka of the past froze at the sight while Shiranui leaped into action—she'd heard one too many stories of this monster's attack on the Moon Tribe, and craved vengeance. She ran towards the shadow of the monster, and Waka, concerned for her safety at the time, not knowing what was to happen, followed soon after. Several Celestials, winged people of the Celestial Plain, trailed after their Great Goddess, though many were incapable of fighting properly.

After a few minutes of running, the small group was able to see the monster in all its terrible glory. Its snakelike scales were shielded with plates of golden armor that shone menacingly in the moonlight; each of its eight heads was adorned with helms that respectively bore the symbol of an element. Fire, Earth, Lightning, Wind, Water, Light, Darkness, Poison—all elements of nature were present, each head representing a single element. These heads were mounted on a large body that resembled a mountain, a bell set in its center. And then there were those horrible, blood-red eyes, gazing down upon the people that dared confront the creature.

"Who dares to challenge me, the great Orochi?" asked the monster. The head with the helm of Fire upon it spoke first, its words echoed in turn by the other heads, giving the words an ominous resonance.

"I do, _Orochi_!" Shiranui growled, spitting out the monster's name hatefully. Brilliant tendrils of white light encircled the goddess's slender body as she prepared for battle, crouching low as if getting ready to pounce. Waka then drew out his magical sword from his wooden flute, set to follow Shiranui into battle against the beast that destroyed his home. One of the more courageous Celestials stepped forward as well, wielding a divine kind of spear that radiated soft holy light—not as powerful as Shiranui's Divine Instrument Solar Flare, which burned with fierce, sacred flames—but stronger than an average mortal weapon.

Orochi narrowed each pair of its awful crimson eyes, a growl rumbling in the throats of each head, the sound rippling across the quiet plain with a frightening echo. "So be it! You shall all die by my fangs!" Orochi declared before letting out a mighty roar. Each head added their voices to the terrifying sound, resounding it and amplifying it eightfold. The fearsome roar reverberated across the entire Celestial Plain, shaking the ground and nearly rending time and space itself apart, it seemed.

Shiranui was only slightly fazed by Orochi's great roar, and leapt at the eight-headed beast, gripping her Solar Flare tightly in her hand. The beautifully colored flames surrounding the red disc in her hand lapped gently against her skin, tongues of blue, green, and orange that burned only that which wasn't holy or sacred. She wielded the divine reflector bravely, gracefully, and elegantly, swinging it in a smooth arc to attack Orochi, the Solar Flare trailing behind it a stunning path of multicolored flame as it struck the beast's armor. But the weapon clashed with the hard metal, and was tossed away, deflected by that golden armor. Shiranui snarled with frustration, her wolf spirit emerging from within her divine soul.

Meanwhile, Waka had been frozen with fear after hearing such a terrifying roar. Once more, he cursed himself for his weakness, and wished that he didn't feel such fear. The "alter persona" of Waka, his present-day self, was still observing the scene within the mind of the past Waka, but gradually, the two were becoming one—Waka's current thoughts were becoming the thoughts he once had in the past, and would soon become fully integrated into the past he wished to avoid.

Past Waka now attempted to harm Orochi with his magical flute-sword, but succeeded no more than Shiranui had. Orochi's golden armor was simply too strong; it repelled all attacks, without receiving so much as a single scratch. This disheartened Waka, but Shiranui continued to fight valiantly, hardheaded and set in the belief that she could win.

As the battle took place, Orochi's darkness spread across the Celestial Plain like a wave of evil that consumed all goodness in its black path. Flames black as the darkness itself erupted from this spreading evil, destroying all it touched. The Celestials fled immediately from the fire, but an unfortunate few were unable to escape. The dark flames pounced upon these doomed Celestials and devoured them. The innocents' agonized screams could be heard along with the sound of the flames' darkly satisfied crackling. Shiranui, whose holy radiance kept the black flames away, silently lamented the loss of those innocent lives, golden gaze shimmering with tears. Waka, who somehow was also able to withstand the burning darkness, looked on with sadness in his silvery-blue eyes.

The one brave Celestial, the one that wished to fight Orochi herself, charged into the darkness of Orochi's evil fire to avenge her fallen comrades. She tried to fend off the burning blackness with the divinity of her glowing weapon as she charged at the eight-headed beast. The flames curled around her, slowly invading the wan barrier provided by her sacred spear. The closer she was to Orochi himself, the stronger the flames became; her frail barrier was quickly wearing thin. She felt the fire licking at her feet, quickly encroaching upon her as the barrier lost strength. She ignored the burning of the darkness gradually enveloping her as she was mere inches from Orochi. Her spear was _so close_ to him—its point could perhaps penetrate his scales if she could just get a _little_ _closer_.

But the flames were getting closer, as well. The flames of evil were swiftly crawling up her legs; she didn't have much more time before she would be completely incinerated. _One last push!_ The Celestial forced herself forward—she was just _so close_, she _couldn't_ stop now—in spite of her excruciating pain, and shoved her spear forward within the last moment of life she had as the flames swept across her torso and then up her arms.

Amazingly, the spear's point was able to break through that seemingly impenetrable armor; that Celestial's selfless bravery had been justly rewarded as she disappeared into the dark flames. Orochi produced an ear-grating screech of pain as the head of Fire recoiled away. But, it soon recovered, and the battle resumed between the beast and the goddess.

The wounded head of Fire unleashed an inferno upon Shiranui, an endless stream of flames pouring from its mouth. Shiranui easily countered by calling upon the holy powers of her Celestial Brush, summoning a strong wind with a simple loop drawn into the parchment of reality. The divine wind dissipated Orochi's flames, extinguishing them effectively and angering the monster at once.

But while Shiranui had been focusing on the head of flame, the head of Poison had slinked closer without detection, baring fangs that glistened with venom. Waka was quick to notice this, and lunged forward to protect Shiranui as the head of Poison surged forth, its gaping maw ready to engulf the Goddess. Waka was the one that received the attack in the stead of his beloved goddess—he let the head of Poison sink its venomous fangs into him where it would have been Shiranui taking the punishment. The head of Poison released him soon after, throwing the prophet onto the ground; its damage had already been done. Its poison would spread through Waka, causing him immense agony—yet it would not kill him. No, this venom forced him to suffer as he writhed under its effects already. It spread quickly, and would remain inside him for what would seem to be an eternity for him.

"Waka!" Shiranui cried, immediately rushing to his side. She knelt by him, wishing to help him, yet there was nothing she could do for him. Her divine Celestial Brush power Rejuvenation could heal his wounds . . . but she could do nothing for the poison that now coursed through his veins. She could only watch him suffer.

And yet, even whilst he was in the grip of the poison's excruciating agony, the prophet was able to discern a vision of the future, the words of a prophecy forming in his mind. It was the answer—the key to defeating Orochi. He had to tell her, had to force this prophecy to his lips, even though it seemed impossible to do something as simple as that while this pain burned within him.

He struggled to utter her name, "Shiranui . . ." The moment he did, the Goddess took his hand into hers. A faint smile appeared on the prophet's lips; the mere touch of his beloved Goddess helped to ease his pain, if only somewhat. He was able to continue on, and say to her the prophecy: "_Orochi can only be defeated with the power of the Chosen One._"

Shiranui blinked in surprise—how was he able to speak a prophecy in such a condition? But his words were stored within her mind, and she nodded. She made the decision the very moment after he spoke that she would wait for this Chosen One. She also knew from that what else she had to do.

She raised herself from the ground, and turned to face the cursed beast Orochi. The creature had been waiting with an air of disdain for the Goddess to resume the battle, as he was too "noble" to strike when her back was turned. With a fierce determination burning in her golden gaze, Shiranui at once charged at Orochi. She fended off the serpent's attacks as she ran towards him; she was gradually pushing him back as he tried to avoid her incoming attack. Soon, the two reached the edge of the Plain; Orochi had nowhere else to move to now. Shiranui threw herself into the beast with all her godly strength. She was able to topple the massive creature; he was thrown clear off the edge by her tackle. But in doing so, she'd also thrown herself over the edge, and she fell with Orochi down to the mortal plain far below the Celestial Plain.

Waka, by this point, had forced himself into a sitting position where he had been lying on the ground before. He watched solemnly as the goddess he loved fall from the Celestial Plain alongside the creature he despised. He knew that this was supposed to happen—he'd essentially told her to do this—and that both would ultimately survive the fall, from his vision of the future, but that didn't stop the tears that flowed from his eyes.

But the cries of the Celestials interrupted his silent grieving. Defying the pain of the poison burning like an inferno inside of him, he stood up and went towards the shouts and screams. He noticed that most of them had fled towards the Ark of Yamato, thinking that it was to be their salvation. And though he regretted it now, he couldn't keep himself from following them into the ark; he couldn't stop himself from doing something he'd already done. After the surviving Celestials boarded the ark, Waka started its engines and piloted it away from the now ravaged Celestial Plain.

And yet, in spite of all that he had suffered as of yet, there was one more memory he was to be forced into reliving, the worst one of them all . . .

o~*~o

Waka was at the helm of the Ark of Yamato. So far, the trip had been relatively peaceful, compared to the chaos on the Celestial Plain. But, of course, that was about to change.

A terrified, high-pitched scream shattered the silence. Waka set the ark to autopilot, and moved to the ark's main room, where he had heard the scream come from, where the Celestials were. Now he desperately wished he hadn't, for he would never be able to forget the terrible images he was about to see.

A horde of evil, hungry, bloodthirsty demons had unleashed themselves upon the hapless Celestials. Several had already been torn apart by the merciless claws of the demons, their entrails thrown carelessly about, their blood spilled across the floor; the floor itself seemed more like a lake of blood for the amount of which had already been shed. The ones that still lived were in a panic, trapped and defenseless against the demons.

Waka stood in horror for but a few moments before he then threw himself into the fray, wielding both his flute-sword and his regular sword against these terrible creatures. His body, which still burned under the effects of Orochi's poison, cried in protest with even more agonizing pangs—yet still he fought. He _had_ to fight, for the sake of the Celestials that remained alive—and for his own sake, to survive this onslaught.

The demons turned to flowers as they were slain by Waka's blades; the beautiful, colorful blooms fell to the floor, mingling with the crimson blood there. But more simply came to take their place. There seemed to be an almost endless amount of these demons; they were eternally surging forth from the depths of the ark.

And then, in the midst of this losing battle, an explosion in the distance—the ark's rudder was destroyed. The Ark of Yamato was sent into an unstoppable, uncontrollable descent; it was going to crash.

Waka had nearly given up on fighting. He wasn't able to save any of the Celestials. They all lay dead at his feet, and the demons continued to swarm about. The moment he did relent was the moment he realized that this was all _his fault_—none of this would ever have occurred had he not taken this cursed ark to the Celestial Plain. He let his swords fall from his hands, and he stood in place, eyes blank, listless, resigned. He awaited his death at the demons' claws—it was what he deserved after the awful, awful mistake he'd made.

It was then that the ark crash-landed on the mortal plain. Waka was thrown into the wall, and the world around him turned dark as his mind fell into oblivion.

o~*~o

And just like that, Waka was freed from the world of memory. He was his present self once more, standing in the blank scape of his own mind. But reliving all these memories so vividly, in succession . . . It had very nearly broken him. He sat there with wide eyes, his body trembling as tears streamed endlessly from his pain-filled eyes. The emotions, those that he'd suppressed over countless years, had seized his heart so suddenly that it was almost too much to bear.

But then a white wolf approached his crumpled, trembling form, its soft golden eyes smiling at him. He recognized this wolf at once.

"Amaterasu . . ."

The wolf let out a soft, happy bark, confirming her identity. This was indeed Amaterasu, the reincarnated form of Shiranui. She let out a soft whine of concern as she moved closer to Waka. He then embraced her, wrapping his arms tightly around the white she-wolf's neck. With another quiet whine, Amaterasu pulled back slightly, and began to lick away his tears. As she did this, Waka managed a weak smile.

Shiranui . . . Amaterasu . . . It didn't matter what name she went by—she was his beloved goddess, and she would always be there to comfort him and ease his pain when he needed it most. He simply knew it; he could see the future, after all.

o~*~o

Waka awoke to darkness. He was disoriented temporarily until he remembered where he was. He was in the cursed Ark of Yamato again, but this was most certainly the present—the pain throbbing in his skull was proof of that.

He slowly rose to his feet, gazing up at the lights above, the only things that penetrated the darkness. Amaterasu was up there, waiting for him. With a quick glance, he discovered the central control hub of the ark, discarded after the ark had crash-landed. He went to it, activated it, and stood on the hovering platform, rising from that pit of darkness, up to where his beloved goddess was waiting for him, just as she'd always waited from him in the past . . .

~END~


End file.
